Not What I Came Here For
by ColourOutsideTheLines
Summary: What Drake Stone had come here for was information... Not an apprentice
1. Second Chance

_What you see is_

_What I have never tried to be_

_Just let me breathe_

_Just take me anywhere but here_

**Streetfight**_- _Hedley

January, 2006

Sitting in the tidy little sitting room in the middle of suburbia, Drake Stone looks down at his feet, wondering if maybe he should have toned himself down a little. Dressed as he is, with the piercings and two toned hair, and 'tight as skin' jeans with the tears at the knees, he looks out of place. A lot. Like a circus performer in the middle of a funeral. Normally, he doesn't give a damn, enjoying the attention. But now, it's a little uncomfortable.

Especially as he's sitting across from a woman who looks like she's ready for anything from a tea party to running a corporation. All in a ladylike and delicate manner. Christine Ashwood sits in her puffy little armchair, legs crossed politely at the knee as she talks at him. "Terrible what happened with Alan, of course. We never suspected anything. Such a shock." She shakes her head, looking appropriately saddened. "And we were never notified that he'd left an Apprentice."

Drake taps his fingers against the carved arm of the chair, nodding. "Well, yeah. Just up and left. So you don't have anythin' on 'im, d'you?" His Master, the man in charge of training him in sorcery, had left him when he was fifteen. A note, his Incantus, and a boatload of abandonment issues. Now twenty, Drake is beginning his search again for Alan Montgomery. This time a bit more informed than five years ago. Questions asked to the New York Merlinians had directed him to Christine and Hugo Ashwood, Christine having been trained by the same Master as Alan, once upon a time.

Though, seeing her now, he has to wonder how on earth this willowy blonde, so chirpy and proper, could have ever been in contact with Montgomery. Montgomery had been a hard, demanding instructor, often pushing his apprentice to keep practicing without break for hours until he'd mastered a spell.

"No, I'm so sorry." Beside Christine, Hugo Ashwood, her husband, steeples his fingers and eyes the sorcerer across from him. _Looks like a perfect match for her_, Drake thinks snidely, _bloody 'Country Club Ken' to her 'Super Mum Barbie'_. "We lost contact with him about the same time as you did."

"It's similar to what happened with our daughter's Master. He left about a year into her training, to go on a pilgrimage to Merlin's Keep. Died four years ago. Tragic. Kathryn was devastated when-." The phone rings in the hall outside the room. Christine gets to her feet, excusing herself.

Drake eyes Hugo, intrigued by the story of his daughter. "Did you keep trainin' your daughter after her Master left?" He'd had to train himself, well enough to become the performer he is today.

Oddly, the man ducks his head, looking out the window. "In our family, traditionally the mother teaches the firstborn daughter. The same is for the father and son. So-." They're interrupted by his wife's strident tone.

"What do you mean there was an incident at school? I thought I had asked for you and Jonathan to supervise her." There's a lengthy pause and Hugo leaves his chair to cross to his wife. Drake twists in his chair, watching the two of them. Christine has her free hand clenched as she scowls. Hugo is frowning, trying to catch what's being said over the phone. "So she caused this girl's hair to fall out? Did teacher notice? Of course. Collapsing desks would do that." She sighs impatiently. "Are you on your way home? Good. Your father and I will have to tweak their memories, the sooner the better. There's someone here, you are in charge Suzanne. Goodbye." Hanging up the phone, she rolls her eyes and walks back into the room.

Drake stands, hands in his pockets. "Look, if you need to deal with this, I can go. As you said, you don't know where he is." Even though the curiosity of the situation is picking at him. Is it their daughter or an acquaintance that's wreaking havoc? Whoever they are, they're crafty enough to pull off stunts that can ruin Christine's calm and collected persona.

Hugo looks like he's ready to agree but she doesn't. Shaking her head, she manages to smile. "No, this shouldn't take too long. I might also be able to remember something for you. Our children should be able to control themselves while we're gone." The smile isn't reaching her eyes.

Children? Christ. He doesn't particularly like kids, especially little ones, which from the sounds of things, these ones are… Well, at least one has to be young enough to not be able to control their spells. "If you're sure, 'cause I really can-." He's interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and feet entering the house. Again, Christine walks out into the hall, only this time she seems to be a bit closer to stomping.

"Suzanne, Jonathan, put your things away then come back down. Kathryn," her voice chills, and for the first time, Drake recognises a bit of Montgomery in her. "Room."

Surprisingly, the voice that answers isn't the squeaky little kid voice that he expects. "I didn't mean to, all right? I don't know what the hell Kiss-Ass Suzie told you, but I didn't exactly plan it. Leeann Cooper was making fun of Jordan and-." The girl's voice sounds mature enough to be in her mid-teens. Angry too.

"Not now Kathryn. Go to your room and we'll discuss this _after_ we've cleaned up after you. And don't let me _ever_ hear you call Suzanne that again." From his position, Drake can see a figure clad in a bright red sweater and jeans moving up the stairs swiftly. A few seconds later, a door is slammed. He winces sympathetically, not wanting to experience the feeling of ever being on the receiving end of Christine Ashwood's ladylike fury. She's speaking in quieter tones to who must be Suzanne and Jonathan now. "As for you two, we have a guest. Suzanne, you can take him down to the study if you want. We shouldn't be gone for more than forty minutes."

Again, he wants to protest, really preferring now to leave and not get stuck in this family drama, but Christine is stepping back in, coat on. "Mr. Stone, we'll be back soon. Our daughter, Suzanne, shall be taking care of you." At that moment, a girl who looks like a clone of her mother except with longer hair and a younger face, moves into the room. She's dressed in what looks like a customary private or catholic school uniform, hair pulled back with a head band. _This is the Barbie family_, Drake thinks, wanting to laugh. _This one is the schoolgirl edition. _The girl, Suzanne, smiles at him as her parents leave. As soon as they do, her face changes.

With a crafty little smirk, she falls into her mother's recently vacated chair, skirt pulling up to mid-thigh. He's fairly sure it's a practiced move too as she swings her legs over the arm of the chair, skirt moving a couple inches higher. "So, welcome to the Ashwoods. And _who_ are you? You don't look like the normal losers that are my parents' friends; that's for sure." This time, he's a little disconcerted to hear a voice that he'd usually expect from a grown woman coming from this innocent-ish looking girl.

"Drake Stone," he answers shortly, trying to stare over her as she crosses her arms behind her head and leans on them. Casting around for a topic, he asks, "So, uh, what happened with Kathryn… your sister, righ'?"

Suzanne giggles, rolling her eyes in a move reminiscent of her mother earlier. "Twin sister. God, wish she wasn't. She's such a total spaz, all the time. She made one of my friends' hair fall out, which is, like, the worst thing she could've done. Lee is so obsessed with her hair." She pauses, contemplating for a minute. "It was funny though. Everyone freaked out, especially when then legs on Ms. Whitcomb's desk fell apart."

"Does she do that a lot?" Now that he knows that the girl isn't a kid, he's wondering why she'd be using magic that way. A good master would have taught her to never use her magic as a prank. _Well, unless the girl's a closet Morganian_, he adds mentally.

"Only if she's pissed off. Leeann was picking on her friend, Jordan, calling him a freak and that because he's gay. So Kath decided to totally be a psycho." Suzanne has the natural ease of a gossiper, adding the right amount of scorn to the story. "She has the whole 'Oh, I'm such a rebel thing' going on. She's just angry 'cause Jon and I are sorcerers and she isn't. Not anymore."

"Why?" As he asks, he remembers Hugo saying how the firstborn daughter was taught by the mother. Suzanne might have been that first born. If they didn't get the other one a Master… he actually feels sorry for her.

She looks irritated. "Why are you so interested in her? All she does is get in trouble. And not even good trouble, like getting drunk at a party or making out with someone's boyfriend." Uncoiling from the chair, she sways over. Pouting a little, she says quietly, "Mom said I should show you the study. It's like our training room and in the basement… Jon should be up in his room…"

Despite being older and far from clueless of what she's insinuating, Drake's a little shocked. This is something he's seen and used in the women that hang around his performances. Not quite comfortable having it come from a kid. "Er…" Trying to find an excuse, he settles on a time honoured one. "Where's the bathroom?"

Sighing, she gives him directions to the upstairs. He thanks her and hustles himself out of the room. Climbing the stairs, he can hear the sound of music beating from the walls. Kathryn, he guesses, interested. As he walks down towards the door where the sounds are coming from, he keeps an eye out from Suzanne and the other Ashwood kid, Jonathan. The door is shut tight and he knocks. There's no answer. _Maybe she didn't hear me_, he wonders as he starts to knock again.

"Get lost, Suzie. You come near me and I'm going to tell them what you were really doing last night." Her voice is muffled and the music switches off abruptly.

"Last time I checked, my name's Drake, not 'Kiss-Ass' Suzie." Trying to make it into a joke, he continues, "I'm hidin' from your sister by the way. Have mercy."

There's a pause, then the door opens, revealing the figure he'd seen earlier. She stares resentfully at him, mouth set. "Figures. She'll come on to anything with a Y chromosome. Who are you? And you do know you've probably upset my mother's little world with what you're wearing?"

"Drake Stone," he grins at her, appreciating her snarkiness. "Seems like you've done the same, luv. Nice work. Anyways, can I hide here?"

Kathryn looks him up and down, then relents. "Sure. I'm not leaving you to Suzanne's claws." She turns and walks over to her bed, sitting down on it cross legged, propping her head in her hands. He follows, looking around as he does. The room is bright, with electric green and yellow walls. There are book shelves filled with books and random things. Clothes on the floor, including the red hoodie she'd been wearing earlier. Watching him, she says, "So, what do you want? You could've hid somewhere else."

"I don't know. Your parents left and I figured I'd try my chances with you." Trying to appear charming, he looks around for a place to sit, but most available places have books and clothes piled on them. A far cry from the rest of the house's tidiness.

"Why were you talking to them? No offense, but you don't look like someone they'd let cross their doorstep. I mean, they barely accept what I wear." She holds out her arms, showing off a graphic t-shirt with a drawing of someone disguised as a robot and the words, 'When the robots come, I'll be ready.' _Cute_, he thinks, comparing it to what Suzanne had been wearing. "You must have persuaded them somehow."

Finally giving up on finding a clear spot, he shifts some papers off a chair and straddles it as he answers, "I had some questions about a man who trained with your mum. The Merlinians in New York did the persuading as I'm sure I don't have the patience."

"Who does?" she mutters, kicking her legs over the side of the bed, restless. "Still, why would you want to talk to me? As Suzanne so lovingly told my parents, I'm in some deep trouble here."

"You're an interesting person Kathryn." He inspects the girl across from him. She looks like a polar opposite of her sister. Shorter by a few inches, skinny where Suzanne is slender, and her face a softer oval shape. The most noted differences are the wavy dark hair, cut messily around her face, and the pale green eyes. Her sister's and mother's are blue. For a moment, he wonders if maybe she was adopted but then remembers that Hugo's colouring is the same. "What did you do to drive your mum batty?"

She blushes, red creeping up over her cheekbones vividly. "I didn't mean to. It was an accident." Drake raises an eyebrow, indicating that she should continue. "This girl, Leeann, was being a bitch to my friend 'cause he's gay and doesn't hide it. So she's being mean and asking him shouldn't his hair be nicer 'cause of what he is… only she never said 'what' he was, just kept insinuating it." Guiltily, she glances at Drake, getting quieter as she says, "I guess, my mind connected dots and… well, next thing I know, her hair's gone. And I panicked 'cause I'm not supposed to be able to do that and- and then my teacher's desk collapsed and my head was hurting so bad that I couldn't even see. Then Suzanne started telling me that I was going to be so screwed when I got home because not only shouldn't I be able to do that, but Mom and Dad won't let me." The words pour out in a rush, as if she wants to get her side of the story out as quickly as possible.

Running through the story, he frowns and asks, "Why shouldn't you be able to do that? Sure, it's wrong but it's baby stuff, nasty little tricks. And you should be able to control yourself by now."

"Do you see a caster anywhere?" Kathryn says bitterly, holding her hands out. There's no ring on her fingers, nothing to indicate she's a sorceress. "They took mine away when my Master died. They won't train me 'cause of 'family tradition' and Suzanne's older by seven minutes."

Drake feels his jaw drop and eyebrows shoot up. He probably looks like a cartoon character but he's shocked. He'd wondered if the Ashwoods had found a new Master for Kathryn. But for them to take away her caster away, leaving her knowing that she had the ability to do sorcery but unable to do it… That's cruel. _Didn't even give the poor thing a chance to train herself. She might've have been able to do it, if she can cast without a caster. _"That's tough," he says lamely.

Laughing hollowly, she hugs her knees, resting her forehead against them. "Tough doesn't even cover it. I trained for not even a year and I was better than Jon and Suzie, and they'd been training for ages before me. Now, Jon is a sorcerer of the hundred and sixty-fourth degree and Suzanne, who's dumb as hell, is at a hundred and fifty-two." She sobs, even though she's trying to muffle it. "And she makes sure to tell me that all the time, rubbing it in my face. And Mom lets her, and Dad is pretty much oblivious to it. They never even looked for another Master for me. They just gave up."

Even though he doesn't even know this girl, nowhere near 'barely' even, Drake gets up to sit next to her. Putting an arm around her shoulders, he says, "You must be pretty good to be able to make things happen, even without your caster."

Kathryn remains stiff, not leaning against him more than possible, and says, voice thick, "It doesn't matter. Without a caster or anyone to train me, I'm worse than useless. All I can do is make things go wrong." She sounds defeated, still not lifting her head.

"You can keep hopin'. You never know, darlin'. Someone could come along." Almost immediately, he finds out that that was the wrong thing to say.

Crying in earnest now, she manages to say, "I'm sixteen. No one wants a minimally trained sixteen year old. They want to start with someone new." Almost laughing through her tears, she adds, "And I've been hoping for four years. No one's come to ask. I doubt the other sorcerers even know that I exist."

Feeling almost protective of this new acquaintance, Drake thinks over the situation. _Useless parents, stupid siblings. And no Master, no caster. Basically 'no hope'. _One part of him wants to pat her on the head and tell her that things will get better, pulling himself out of this mess. But another part, louder in his head, is saying, _look, you've been where this girl's been. You of all people, you thick git, should understand and want to help. Sure, it's _easier _to ignore all this but that makes you no better than Alan Montgomery. Want that on your conscience? _He doesn't. _Well, then, help her out. She's talented as hell, from the sound of things. It wouldn't take too long to train her up to work on her own, to give her a chance. _

Before he can think anymore, he reaches to tilt the girl's head up. She tries to resist, hunching her shoulders, but he's persistent. "Come on, luv. Look at me. Want to talk to you for a sec." Raising her head a few inches, she stares at him defiantly, showing a tear streaked face and red eyes. "You listenin' to me? Pay attention now: would you accept bein' my Apprentice?"

Shock takes over her. "Really? You're not joking? Really?" The eagerness doesn't last long though: turning away, she mutters accusingly, "You're just feeling sorry for me. In a few days or so, you'll regret this then where am I gonna be left? Same as before."

"I won't," he says truthfully. Kathryn gives him a disbelieving look, a definite 'Yeah, right'. Sighing, he explains, "I've ha- seen it happen to someone I know, and I know what they went through. I wouldn't do that to you. I promise."

She eyes him for a long moment before answering, slowly, "I guess it might work. Maybe."

Drake tightens his hold on her, teasing, "C'mon now. I need a better answer than _that_. Yes or no, Kathryn Ashwood."

A real smile finally appears on her face. "Well, since you're pleading… Yes, I accept your offer of becoming your Apprentice, Drake Stone."

A week later, Kathryn flexes her fingers, admiring the ring on the middle finger of her left hand. It feels like it's always been there, instead of only an hour.

The design is gorgeous, pewter in the shape of open star jasmine flowers forming the band. In the center is a vaguely oval shaped amethyst. When Drake had taken her to get the ring designed and sized, the maker had explained that faceting the stone could weaken it so they'd decided to leave the amethyst as a polished, raw stone. The weight of the caster feels comforting, a presence that she'd missed horribly when her last one had been taken from her.

Now, she feels grounded. She's been brought back to a world that she'd assumed that she'd only watch for the rest of her life. It's still a surprising event, one that she continues to expect to disappear every morning when she wakes up. So far, it hasn't. As she considers this, an impatient voice calls from the street corner. "Are you goin' to stand there all day? Or are you comin'?"

Looking up from her hand, Kathryn shoves both into the pockets of her sweater. "What do you think?"


	2. Names

_Break the lock if it don't fit_

**Kiss With a Fist** – Florence + the Machine

July, 2006

Looking at the foot thick book sitting in front of her, Kathryn is almost ready to shove it off the table and cry for mercy. What stops her from doing so is the knowledge that she'd have to pick it up after. Instead she crosses her arms and settles into a childish sulk. It's only one in the afternoon but already, the day seems to have lasted forever.

_I bet everyone else is out doing something _fun, she thinks, _And me? I'm sitting here _studying. _Oh joy, oh rapture. _Though she's irritated, she admits that she'd rather this than no sorcery at all. Oh yes, she's grateful for everything Drake Stone has given her. But still, she wouldn't be a self-respecting teenager if she didn't rebel against what could be considered 'school work'. Especially when it's the middle of the summer.

Yet, what stings the most is that she brought it on herself. Just yesterday, she'd made the mistake of trying to get revenge on Drake. While she'd been preoccupied with failing miserably at doing any form of defensive shields, he'd been ruthlessly dissecting what she was wearing. Her comments of him being 'such a girl' and 'maybe you should go on _What Not to Wear_ and make friends with Clinton' hadn't done the job as the usually did. He had just waved them off and moved on to insulting her shoes. It had really been the shoes that had done her in.

_"Kath, wha' did you do to those poor things tha' you call 'shoes'?" He eyes them as if they were a particularly nasty form of insect._

_Looking up from her work, Kathryn focuses instead on her feet. "They're shoes. I didn't do anything to them. They always look like this. And don't call me Kath." The shoes in question look perfectly fine to her. Black Converses with rainbow metallic embroidery. Her favourite shoes actually._

"_Then you mean they're supposed to look like a crazed toddler attacked them?"_

"_They don't. It's called a design." Shrugging, she turns back to her work. Despite being able to make things 'happen' without a caster, spells are a pain in the ass to learn. If anything, her ability to grasp things and get them under control is worse now than it was when she was twelve. Embarrassing as hell to admit. Her latest attempt at a shield makes an ominous crackling sound before it dissolves. "Dammit."_

_Drake doesn't stop his contemplation of her feet as he says, "Again." There are a few moments of silence as she continues to work. Finally, a shield, shaky but there, rises. _

"_Whoo! Score one for Team Kathryn." Doing an impromptu victory dance, she turns to Drake, expecting at least some form of praise._

_Instead: "Those shoes look like someone puked cotton candy an' glitter."_

"_For God's sake." Swearing, Kathryn tugs on bunches of her hair. "Leave my shoes alone or I am going to beat you to death with one of them."_

"_But really, Kath."_

_Almost growling, she acts before she really thinks it through. Using a spell for electric current, she directs it at Drake, turning the electricity into static. But it doesn't work the way she wants it to. Really should have expected it. Instead of giving him a nice shock, static hits his hair, turning it into a fluffy pouf. _

_He gapes at her, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He looks like Beaker, the unfortunate Muppet. Giggling, partly from guilt and partly from hilarity, Kathryn backs up. "Oops," she says belatedly._

"_Incantus. Tha's all your doin' tomorrow. Readin'." With that announcement, he stalks off._

Uncrossing her arms, Kathryn leaves her chair and begins to wander around Drake's apartment. When she'd arrived that morning, he'd given her a flat stare, pointed her to the table then had left. A section on controlling spells and not overusing them had been marked, showing his normal sense of humour. She'd almost expected lines but instead had found, about a quarter of the way through the section, a scrap of paper with the words '_There will be a test_' written on it.

There are still about fifteen pages left, but they're all with tiny print and drawings. Her eyes are already burning because she'd been stupid enough to think he'd been joking so she hadn't brought the glasses she wore for reading. _Won't make that mistake again_.

Sighing, she kicks at the ground, looking over towards the front door. The shoes that had caused the problem sit by it, seemingly innocent. She'd worn them as a point and they hadn't even been sneered at. Disappointing. She wishes that she knew when Drake would be back. That way, she might have a chance of leaving for a bit then coming back. But for all she knows, he could prance in at any moment.

With that thought in mind, Kathryn stomps back to the table and flops into the chair. The Incantus is where she left it, heavy and dusty. She pulls it towards her, tucking her legs beneath her so that she can read the words without holding the book in her lap, like a little kid. Makes it through three paragraphs before she begins to thump her forehead against the page. The Incantus, while factual, is repetitive as hell. Always the same point over and over, just cunningly disguised in different wording; control your spells, is what it always boils down to.

Bored, she marks her page and begins flipping through the book. Skipping over the pages on more advanced spells despite how much she'd like to look, she eventually turns to the index of sorcerers in New York. There's a surprising amount, as sorcerers are supposed to be rare. Her own name is in there, filed under 'Ashwood, Kathryn O.'. The 'O' is new. Hadn't been there a month or so ago when she'd looked herself up in order to gloat over her apprenticeship. It's the first initial of her middle name but she keeps that one to herself mainly. She would worry over how it ended up here, but she's come to accept that the Incantus has a mind of its own.

Under the basic details of how long she's been active, her age and degree (still pitifully low), there's a note to link her to Drake. Surprisingly, Kathryn has never searched for him. "Stupid," she says out loud as she begins to turn to the 'S' section. 'Stone, Drake A.' is under 'Snell, William'.

The normal information is there; born in Nottinghamshire, England, September 7, 1985. Three hundred and seventeenth degree. Again, there's the link to her along with a man named Alan Montgomery. _His Master? _She wonders, absently tapping her fingers on the page. _He's never mentioned him. I've never seen him either… You'd think they'd keep in contact… Maybe he's dead. _That gives her pause for a second or so, feeling guilty that she'd found something that Drake might not have wanted her to know. There's more though: at the very bottom, written in smaller script is 'born Drake Matthews'.

_What? _She looks at the line again and contemplates why he'd have changed his name. She comes up with a list of fairly ridiculous reasons, such as 'hiding from assassins'. _Oh yeah, like that's true, _she scoffs. _Stupid reason, Ashwood. And you'd better get back to work before he comes in and asks what the hell you're doing._

Another twenty minutes pass while she struggles through the miniscule print in the text. Just as she is ready to throw the Incantus out the window and accept the consequences, the front door opens and Drake comes in. When she twists to look at him while rubbing at her stinging eyes, he grins hugely and says, "So how was your day? Learn lots?"

"Shut up," she answers, giving him a dirty look. "I strongly dislike you right now. My head hurts, my eyes aren't focusing anymore, and this thing weighs a ton." He only laughs so she continues, "This isn't funny. Next time, just shoot me instead of making me read size two Old English font."

"Not my fault you forgot your glasses." Settling himself into the chair across from her, Drake peers at the page. "An' you didn' finish? Wha' have you been doin'?"

Kathryn doesn't dignify that with a response, deciding to take the high road. "Did you have a nice day while I suffered?" All right, make that the middle road.

"Had to go an' register you with the New York Merlinians."

Confused, she asks, "You hadn't done it before? I've been your Apprentice for how long?"

"Yeah, well, never really got around to it." He stretches before sending her another sunny smile. "Apparently I didn' bring all the information they wanted either. Since when do you have a middle name?"

"Since I was born. You never asked." _That would explain the initial then_, she thinks and tells him so.

"So tha's wha' you were doing instead of your work." There's a moment while he tries to look strict. "Olivia."

She only shrugs at the name. "If you think that's going to irritate me, keep trying. I like Olivia a hell of a lot better than Kathryn."

The distraction works. Sitting forward to inspect her, Drake asks, "Really? Kathryn is a perfectly nice name."

"It's my grandmother's name," she explains, "While she was still alive, she was Kate or Katie and I got stuck with Kathy. I hate that name. Barely anyone in my family uses Kathryn. Olivia's neutral so I like it better." Closing the Incantus, she shoves it over at him. "Am I done now? Is the torture over?"

"Yeah, sure." She can tell he's still stuck on the name thing. "So if I called you Olivia, you wouldn' bite my head off about your name anymore?"

"If you want. Why do you care? Is it because you changed yours?" When his eyes widen, Kathryn can tell she's surprised him. She hadn't intended to bring that up.

He's silent for so long, she wonders if she's seriously upset him. When he speaks, she's surprised by how serious he sounds. "Where did you find tha'?" Gesturing at the Incantus, she feels the beginnings of uneasiness. Drake doesn't _do _serious. "Of course. Bloody book."

"I'm sorry, I was just looking in the index and you were there so I-." In some part of her, she knows she's babbling, something she hates doing, so she's grateful when he cuts her off.

"It's all right, luv. It's in there; you were going to see it eventually." For one on of the first times, he looks stressed. He's usually pretty good at hiding it. "When I got into the whole show thing, Cass," his agent, "Suggested that I got myself a new name 'cause Matthews is fairly standard. So I changed it. I didn't mind changing it but… I guess you could say I felt guilty or somethin'."

"Why? 'Cause you changed it and your family didn't like it?" _And I've done it again,_ she berates herself as she watches a muscle jump in his cheek.

"No… not exactly. It was more tha' I was happy to change it. Maybe I should 'ave been more attached to my name."

Seeing how just how the topic of his old name has affected him, Kathryn decides to not bring up Alan Montgomery. She'll let him tell her when he wants to. For now, she reaches across the table and tugs on a spiky lock of his hair. "Well, I like Drake Stone, even if he does look like a confused hedgehog." She grins when he smacks her hand away from his precious hair. "Nice to see that your hair is back to its normal state."

"No thanks to you."

"But it was so pretty yesterday." Getting out of her chair, she begins to get ready to go home.

Drake remains at the table and, at long last, her shoes receive his disgusted look. "Those things are really horrible."

"Creative," she argues as she ties the laces. "And I like them."

"Creatively ugly, Olivia." He's trying out the name as if he's waiting for her to throw something at him.

For once, she lets him have the last word.

**A/N: **So this chapter was a bit more of a struggle to write. Hopefully it's turned out all right. Reviews would make me very happy. And because I forgot last time:

Discalimer: I am a highschool student, therefore am too broke to own Sorcerer's Apprentice, Hedley or Florence + the Machine.


	3. Out

_Take the world off your shoulders and put it on me_

**Breathe** – Ryan Star

November, 2006

Buried deep into his work, Drake begins to try out the newest trick for his show. The specters float around the room, eerily whistling as he starts to build an explosion of sparks and smoke that will allow him to pull a quick teleportation spell. The workroom looks like some sort of fairy tale portrayal of the Underworld, with the ghosts and dark edged clouds. Red lights begin to flicker, adding to the effect.

He's about to use the teleportation when the sound of knocking startles him out of his concentration. Nearly tripping over backwards, Drake looks at the door in confusion, wondering who the hell it could be. A very limited amount of people know where he lives. Even fewer would be able to get into his apartment, let alone near the workroom. His agent and her limitless minions were told to leave him alone while he worked. And his apprentice is off doing whatever teenagers do on a Friday night. He kills the spells and moves towards the door.

Opening the door, he's greeted by the sight of a snow flecked Livy. He doesn't think of her as 'Kathryn' anymore, really. It's Olivia now, and all the shortened forms that come with it. What started out as a nickname to annoy her as turned into what he calls her all the time. It doesn't seem to cause any problems for her, as she answers to it as if it has been her first name all along.

Now, there's an irate expression on her ace that changes to a mild fear as she leans to look past him. "Did you burn something again?" she asks, eyes wide. "I thought you promised not to cook everything in the microwave." The Great Fire of the Microwave had only occurred once and while it had been impressive, he sees no reason for her to continue to bring it up. _Or to put duct tape over the door of the bloody thing. As if I'd meant to do it. _

Scowling, he shakes his head. "No. I was workin', before you interrupted." Livy grins, a little apologetically, mouthing 'oops'. "Wha' are you doin' here anyway? When I said 'bright an' early' for tomorrow, I didn' mean the night before."

Once again, her face changes and she ducks her head, shifting from foot to foot. "Um… well. You see, I have, uh. Had bad day and things have… well, I don't…." She's not making much sense.

"Wha' happened?"

"Well, I kind of…" There's a pause while she takes a breath then says, in a rush, "I got thrown out of the house, kinda."

Stupidly, Drake doesn't ask why she got thrown out but, "How do you 'kinda' get thrown out?" He understands the concept of this but what he doesn't understand the why. Sure, he knew that Liv had driven her parents to insanity while she'd been an out of control magic user. But he'd thought that her being under supervision and given training would've eliminated that problem.

"If you're given the option of cooperating and being allowed to come back or just staying away," she answers with a sigh. Looking up from her feet, she adds, "Of course when both options really suck… I ended up taking the less sucky one."

Drake has the feeling that this is going to take awhile to sort out. Stepping back from the doorway, he allows her into the room, saying over his shoulder, "Mind the stuff on the floor. I jus' managed to get the hole in the wall fixed from your last accident." He can hear her mutter something defensive and insulting in his general direction. Using a quick spell to clear the last of the smoke from the air, he sits in the desk chair and fixes Liv with a stare. "So, wha' _exactly _did you do?"

She flops into the battered armchair that she'd hauled in a few months ago, after she'd lost a battle for the only other seat besides the floor. Dropping her bag to the floor, she begins to explain: "I came home today and decided that it'd be a good idea to finally get a start on all the terrible work you'd given me." (She waves away his question of 'you hadn' started yet?') "So I had to go down and use the circle in the basement 'cause I needed it. Sadly, Suzanne was using it all ready. Dunno how she got down there before me, by the way, 'cause she gets home at the same time as me but whatever. I asked when she was going to be done so I could use it. She sniped at me about her having equal rights, I sniped back. Decided it would probably be smarter to leave than get in a screaming match with her. Only…" Now she stops and huddles back into her chair a bit, tucking her feet up. "So…um…"

"Well?" Drake asks, frowning at her. "Don' see how just _that _would get you tossed out."

Oddly, she turns red and coughs uncomfortably. "Um… Suze decided to drag you into the mess and say that I was… ah, you know… with you." _What? _he thinks, stunned. He can understand Liv's 'you know' well enough to get what she's meaning to say. As he's about to say something, she interrupts and hurries on. "So I shot that idea down and started yelling. Mistake. She went crying to Mom, saying that I was- I don't even know what she said. But Mom came stomping down and told me off for doing whatever to Suze." Obviously disgruntled, she rolls her eyes. "Then she decided that I'm moving too fast through my training and that you're not training me right."

Insulted, he straightens up. "And your mum was doin' such a great job at it, was she?" _You'd think she'd be grateful. _He'd taken on the daughter that had apparently been plaguing her and ensured that she'd stop 'embarrassing' her. And for this?

"I know, I know." Liv sounds just as angry. "Understandably, I started a match with her. Then she laid down her verdict: either I told you that I needed to start all the way at the beginning or I could get out. Being a reasonable soul, I got out." Somehow, a smile appears on her face. "I don't think she exactly expected me to do that," she adds.

Drake feels as far from sharing her smile as possible. "When did all this happen?"

"Around four, I guess."

"And it's…" Quick glance at the clock on the desk. "Nine now. Wha' did you do for five hours?"

Shrugging, she says, "Was too pissed off to do much. Wandered around, got overdosed on coffee, stood on a street corner aimlessly for a bit. Weirdly, I was not paid for standing there. I obviously do not have the proper hooker look. Did have someone honk at me though, so that's a bit better."

Despite his anger at the situation, he laughs at her disappointed look. "I don' think you'd want to look like a prostitute, darlin'. You'd end up smackin' the first guy who looked at you sideways."

"Still. Anyways, I got tired of freezing and decided that you're the best person to rant at, 'cause you got torn apart by my family too."

"Yeah." He's pushing that part down for now. Right now, he's dealing with the fact that Liv was thrown out by a pair of self-centered… hags, who, from the sounds of things, never even checked to see where she'd ended up. Liv's pretty much self-sufficient, he knows, but she's also an innocent, really. He's had to stop her from getting pulled in by a few cons on the streets and from even just walking out into traffic. So the image of her just wandering around her town at night isn't very comforting. "You all righ' now?"

"Fine. Don't think it's really sunk in yet." There's an almost sad look to her for a moment until she shakes herself impatiently. "Will eventually, I guess. But now, I'm stuck throwing myself on your mercy until they figure out that they're idiots."

Somehow, Drake's seriously doubting that that will happen but he says, "You can stay here if you want, until tha' happy moment shows up. Pretty sure I can sacrifice the couch for you."

Liv eyes him uncertainly. "Look, I was joking about the 'mercy' comment. You really don't have to. I can stay with Jordan. His parents think I'm okay." Moving as if to leave, she gets to her feet.

He does as well and grips her by the shoulder. "I'm not jokin'. Even if you're just here tonight so you don' have to get the train back at ten thirty or whatever ridiculous time the thing comes at." Ignoring her complaint about the train not coming that late, he gives her a small shake. "C'mon, I even 'ave coffee here so you can make yourself sick on too much caffeine." He's playing on her love of the stuff, using it to keep her here.

"Well, God. When you put it that nicely." Liv acts as if she's in deep thought before she says, "Thanks. I'll stay for tonight, as long as it doesn't bug you." In a move that neither of them are really prone to do, she hugs him tightly, face pressed against his shoulder.

Awkwardly, he hugs her back, muttering, "It's not a problem. You're makin' a big fuss out of me jus' helpin' you out."

"Nice of you though. Even if you do try for that badass vibe," she teases as she pulls away. Looking around the room, she asks, "Now, do you want any help with whatever you were working on?"

"Yeah. And it's not a vibe, luv, I _am _a badass, as you put it." Drake smiles at her laugh, before tossing her the Incantus from the desk. "You can study up on illusions while I do them."

* * *

**AN:** Hey, thanks for all the hits on this! I really appreciate knowing that people are reading this (besides myself). It'd help if I could get so reviews to say if you like this or if there's something that could be improved... thanks to Sheherazade's Fable and Skylarking for reviewing already. :)

Disclaimer: Teenager in highschool = I own nothing.


	4. People

_I like to push it and push it until my luck is over_

**Celebrity Status **–Marianas Trench

March, 2007

"No."

"It's not like I'm askin' you to jump out a window or anythin'. Get a grip, Livy."

"No. No, no, no. I don't like people."

Despite his annoyance with her childish behaviour, Drake has to laugh at that comment. "People are everywhere. You do 'ave to deal with 'em."

Liv's expression doesn't change, if anything, it just becomes more mutinous. She folds her arms and moves to lean against the wall. "I do not like people. I don't _have _to deal with them. You can do that."

"Really, can you be any odder? For God's sake, you're a teenager." He mirrors her position, scowling at her.

"And what does that have to do with anything?" she asks, adding, "It's really hard to take you seriously with that hair. Figures of authority do not have purple hair." As if she believes that's the end of the conversation, she drops back down onto the couch and pulls her math textbook towards herself. It's far from over though.

Stung, Drake kicks at her feet from where they're propped on the coffee table. "The purple is interestin'. Now stop bein' a brat an' get up. I am not dealing with you."

Eyes narrowed, Liv stares at him over her book. "Oh, like I don't deal with you on a regular basis. Now, I am busy therefore I refuse to go on a play date with other sorcerers. I'm sure you can woo them to your wishes yourself."

"You just used the word 'woo'. Wha' century do you live in, you weirdo?" Narrowly dodging the pillow she throws at him, he grabs her by the upper arms and hauls her off the couch. For a brief moment, she tries to pull herself free. Her struggles stop swiftly when he gets a hold on her ear and twists.

She shrieks, trying to swat at him. "Dammit, Drake. That _hurts_, really really hurts."

"Yeah, it does." Grinning, he experimentally increases the tension and nearly gets smacked in the face by one of Liv's flailing hands. "Play nice an' I'll let you go. Tha' means coming with me." When she nods as best as she can, considering her position, he releases her and retreats.

Rubbing at her ear, she sighs. "Fine. I'll go be nice to the other apprentices." She's very sure to make her annoyance known as she picks up her jacket from the floor, keeping her movements sharp and hurried.

"See? Wasn't tha' hard." _If looks could kill, _he thinks as she glares at him. _I would six feet under, with a lovely rock and flower arrangement. _

"Yeah, not like I need my ear or anything. Where did you even learn that?"

* * *

Later on, in the months that follow, Drake wonders if maybe he made the wrong decision in introducing Liv to Melissa O'Neil.

* * *

**A/N: **So this is just a short little insert to set up for the next chapter. The next one will explain Drake's reaction... Should be fun.


	5. Faery

_If I'm young and stupid_

_At least I'm doing it while_

_I'm young and stupid_

_And not when its out of style_

**Young and Stupid** - Hedley

June, 2007

Nearly stumbling over a crack in the sidewalk, Kathryn hurries to catch up with her friend. Melissa is moving as if she's trying to compete in a speed walking competition, nearly running over several other pedestrians.

"God, Mel! Slow down." Slightly out of breath, she pulls even and pushes her hair out of her eyes as she asks, "Would it kill you to click down to maybe a hundred miles an hour instead of two-fifty? You nearly ran over an old lady with a walker back there." _Who'd then turned on me, yelling in Chinese, I think, _she adds mentally.

Melissa sighs and obliges, slowing enough so that Kathryn doesn't have to take about five steps to every one of her long legged strides. "Sorry," she mutters. "We just have to hurry. There's only an hour where we'll be able to get in and that's up in thirty five minutes."

"We wouldn't have to rush if you hadn't spent ages looking for your wallet," Kathryn interjects, sidestepping a small Pomeranian that prances by her foot.

The other girl scowls. "Yeah, well, tonight would be the one night that it got lost. Anyway, we're good now." A turn down to a side alley leads them out into a darker looking part of the city. Kathryn pulls closer to her friend, while Mel continues, "So you remember what I told you?"

"Yeah, yeah. " _She's only repeated it about eighty times, _she thinks wryly. "Don't worry so much, Mom."

"Laugh as much as you want Liv but when you get led off into an alley or something, you will think of me. You will repent and you will realise, 'I should've listened to Mel as she knows all there is to know'." There's a pause as she laughs, Kathryn joining in with an added 'yeah, right' eye roll. "Besides, you get in trouble; it's not just going to be you who's going to get killed. Drake will come after _me_."

"Oh come on. He thinks you're hilarious. He's more likely to think that I led you astray."

"Sure he thinks I'm funny. But I do not want to see what happens if you get screwed up. Exhibit A: your concussion. Which was kind of caused by me."

Wincing, Kathryn recalls the memory. She'd been trying a levitation spell and Mel had given her a modification so that she wouldn't have to wave her hands around as much. It hadn't really worked out: some objects had stayed up, while others, namely an ornamental heavy globe, hadn't. The globe had given her a lovely bump on the head, along with a minor concussion. Drake hadn't handled the accident very well, nearly sending the Emergency Room doctor into a nervous breakdown with his constant questionings of the poor man's certifications and experience.

"Right. I'll just make sure that doesn't happen." Holding up a hand, she lowers a finger with her points. "No eating anything. No drinking anything. Make sure I don't lose my bracelet, because it's iron. Stay in the crowd. If things look like they're going bad, I find you and we leave."

"And…?" Mel gives her a hard look, as they turn left onto an even dingier street than the one they had just been on. As she looks around, Kathryn has the brief and uncomfortable feeling of being watched. Several times she thinks she sees eyes peering out from the shadows but shakes it off, muttering to herself about 'watching too many stupid horror movies'. Suddenly Mel bumps into her, repeating her earlier question.

"What?" she answers, bumping her friend back. "I know what to do. I'm not totally clueless." When she only gets a sceptical snort in return, she sighs, "I said five things. What did I forget?"

"Eating and drinking were under the same point. Don't tell anyone you're a sorcerer. The fey love taunting any sorcerers they can get their hands on."

"Got it."

Walking down the street, the feeling of a pounding bass line reaches them before the music does. What looks like a small-ish warehouse's doors are open, spilling out people and light. As they get closer, Kathryn begins nervously tugging on her top, loaned to her by Mel, wondering if perhaps this is really a good idea. Originally, the idea of, essentially, crashing the faeries' rave had sounded like a cool idea but… the dire warnings aren't leaving her feeling very comforted.

Many of the faerie myths aren't exactly myths. No, most of them look nothing like Tinkerbell (the ones that do are usually under a glamour). Yes, they do steal children. No, oatmeal does not scare them off but iron does. Yes, eating and drinking faerie food will leave you trapped. No, they don't really like keeping humans as pets. Killing them is usually preferred.

Almost like she knows that she's nervous, Mel reaches out and pulls Kathryn's ponytail. "Relax. It'll be fun. Besides, you look amazing."

Looking down at herself, she grins a little. "Because you nagged me. I still don't know how I ended up like this." The skimpy tank top with metal grommets and the very short shorts are not things that she'd normally be caught dead in but, as much as she hates to admit it, her friend made her look somewhat… interesting.

"What I don't know is how you managed to fool me into thinking you couldn't wear heels. Always wearing your Converses." Mel actually sounds perturbed and a little insulted.

Laughing, with a quick bounce to show that she's completely stable, she explains, "C'mon Mel. I'm Drake Stone's apprentice. Of course I can wear heels. I think he would either kill himself laughing or evict me if I couldn't."

"I'm not even sure if I should dignify that with a comment. And here we go, Livy." They're at the entrance to the building and Kathryn finds herself being towed through the crowd by her friend, as some of the others, fey or mortal, she's not sure, stare at them. Mel steps in front of a towering man who has piercings adorning his face and black hair with blue streaks. "Hey, Jonas. Remember me?"

There's an almost awkward pause while the guy looks down at them. _Definitely something not… right, _Kathryn thinks, trying to meet his eyes without looking like a total wuss. There's something just a little off about him, something that makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Eventually, he nods and says, "Melissa, right? And who did you bring this time?"

"This is Liv. It's short for Olivia." It's no longer only Drake that calls Kathryn by her middle name. Mel had caught him calling her that one day and had picked it up, claiming that it suited her better. "She's my friend from a group I'm with." _If by 'group' you mean 'underground society that has magic'. Yep, we're in a group, _she thinks, trying to stave off a nervous giggle.

"Right." Jonas couldn't sound more bored as he stops inspecting Kathryn. "You remember the rules? Out by one am?"

"Of course. Don't worry about us." Again Mel grabs her arm then pulls her through the open doors. Looking back, Kathryn can just catch a glimpse of Jonas watching them go. For a moment she's pretty sure he smiles then winks at her.

Inside, the open ground floor of the building is packed with bodies. Loud, pounding music screams over the crowd. Against a wall, a makeshift bar is doing brisk business. Kathryn takes a step back, even though she's far away from it. _Not getting any closer to anything from there, _she orders herself. For a moment, everyone looks normal and mortal. Closing her hand into a fist over her caster, she's greeted with the scene that could be taken straight from fantasy or maybe a nightmare. There are a few other mortals besides her and Mel but the rest are fey. Beside her is one with near translucent skin and eyes that look like dark holes in its face. It bares its teeth at her in a frightening smile, revealing jagged teeth that would make Jaws jealous.

Kathryn uneasily shifts away, only to realise that Mel is talking to her. "So Liv, just do what I told you and you'll be fine. I'll meet you back here in a couple hours okay?"

"Wait." She snatches at her friend and anxiously asks, "What am I supposed to do? I don't know anyone here."

Mel laughs, giving her a comforting pat on the shoulder. "No one? Someone over there looks like he wants to meet you." She jerks her chin at a faery that's glamoured to look like a boy who might be in university. Kathryn does a quick check under the glamour, revealing an almost human looking faery… if you ignored the moving tattoos under his skin. Dancing away, Mel calls back, "Have fun."

Eyeing the faery, Kathryn sees him grin and hold his hand out in her direction. She takes a deep breath, waving goodbye to her friend as she walks over to the faery. "Hi," she manages to say while he takes her hands in his, drawing her deeper into the crowd.

* * *

Drake wakes up to the ringing of his cellphone, swearing and nearly killing himself as he staggers out of bed to search for it. The jaunty little tune is almost at its end when he finally finds the phone, kicked under a pile of clothes. "Yeah? Wha'?" he answers, voice creaky with sleep.

The voice on the other end sounds a lot more awake than him. "Sorry to call you this late, Mr. Stone. Laura O'Neil," she adds, when he doesn't make any response to her apology, introducing herself. "I just would like to ask if you could tell my daughter, Melissa, to come home and to answer her phone. She was supposed to be home two hours ago."

Still confused, he asks again, "Wha'?" Melissa, Melissa… ah. _Liv's lunatic friend. _This clarification doesn't help him out anymore though. "She's not here. Liv said she was stayin' at your house for the night so Melissa should be there, righ'?"

"Olivia was never staying here. Neither of the girls are here, actually." Now he can hear the stress in Laura's voice.

Come to think of it, he's starting to worry. "You sure they're not jus' at Quinn's?" Quinn is Melissa's Master and there's a chance that the two girls might be with her… doing something.

"No. I've already phoned her and she says she hasn't seen either of them."

Worry and a little fear are definitely setting in. Moving into action, Drake hunts for clothes as he says, "Look, I'll be there as soon as I can. See if you can get Quinn to do a trackin' spell. They're not very exact but it migh' work." Laura's thank you is mostly ignored as he closes the phone and pulls on his shoes.

While he starts up a transportation spell, Drake quickly thinks of and rejects several places that Liv could be. She's never pulled a stunt like this before, usually telling him where she is with a text. Mainly because she knows he tends to forget where she's gone and the text can remind him. But this time, he has no idea.

Moments later, he lands in the O'Neils' front room, staggering a little. He's only been here once, when Quinn had introduced him and Liv to Melissa. Not being familiar with the area makes a graceful entrance tricky. Though no one pays much attention to it, showing just how concerning this situation is. Laura O'Neil is pacing through the room while Quinn sits in a chair, eyes unfocused. _Trying the spell then. Bloody things are really more complicated than they're worth._

"Any sign of 'em yet?"

Laura looks incredibly stressed as she says, "No. And all that Quinn can figure out is that they're somewhere in Manhattan."

"The spell is only really useful if one of 'em has used any magic. I'm guessin' tha' they're probably just out somewhere… doing teenage… stuff," he says finally. He's having a hard time guessing what the two could be up to. Both of the girls are more likely to be practicing or holed up in each other's rooms than roaming the city in the middle of the night.

Standing up from her chair, Quinn moves to the window that looks out into the street. "I can't find them. They're not dead, which is nice to know." In a smile that's only half joking, she adds, "Then again, I might just kill Mel for this one."

Drake laughs a little, more at the thought of Quinn killing anyone than anything. The sorceress is barely five foot and could probably still pass for a woman in her twenties if it weren't for the gray streaks in her light blonde hair. "Just get her to clean out the storage room at the Buildin'. If the dust doesn't get 'er, the mess will. Tha's my plan for Liv." The Building is the nickname for the main meeting base for the New York Merlinians, a large townhouse built in the nineteen twenties. While the structure itself is impressive, the sheer amount of clutter that's collected in almost ninety years is truly awe-inspiring.

Laura looks like she'd laugh as well in normal times, but now, she looks strained, too tightly wound to find anything funny. Drake knows a little bit about her and Mel: that Malcolm O'Neil, Mel's father, had been a sorcerer and had been killed about ten years ago in a Morganian attack. Liv had told him this, along with the fact that Laura was incredibly protective of her daughter due to this.

From across the room, Quinn seems to have picked up on Laura as well. "Don't worry, Laura," she reassures, putting an arm around the other woman's shoulders. "I'm sure she's fine."

The three of them continue to wait as time ticks by. Twenty minutes, fifty minutes, an hour and a half. Finally at around two thirty, a scuffling noise comes from the front door. Laura shoots to her feet from her position on the couch, already out in the hall by the time Drake manages to get up from his place on the floor.

The door opens and Liv and Mel come tumbling in, holding on to each other and giggling. They don't notice anyone else for a moment then Liv looks up. For a second, Drake can see a definite, "Oh shit" look pass over her face before she says, awkwardly, "Umm… hi?"

Looking at her, he notices that she's dressed differently than her normal jeans'n't-shirts combo then he's distracted by Laura grabbing her daughter and asking, in a raised voice, "Where the hell have you been?"

Mel blushes and starts to babble something about just going out to a friend's but she's interrupted by Quinn. "Ah, yes. Friend. Does 'friend' also carry around faery dust for fun?"

_Faery?_ Drake wonders before he inspects his apprentice a bit more closely. Under her eyes are purple shadows, dark and large enough to make her look like a panda. Her skin's somewhere between pale and gray, while her mouth looks almost blue. He's heard of the signs of faery infatuation and somewhere, he distinctly recalls a note about 'sickly appearance'. Almost shoving past Laura, he takes Liv by the shoulders, forcing her to look up at him. "What?" she asks, confused.

Giving her a little shake, he demands, "Liv, did you eat or drink anythin'? Do you remember wha' happened tonigh'?" She only blinks at him, still uncertain. Shaking her again, he repeats the questions.

"No. I didn't. I'm not a total idiot." Liv actually sounds insulted. "And I remember everything. God. What are you freaking out about?"

"What he's worried about, Kathryn, is faery infatuation." Quinn says dryly. She is one of the few who still calls Liv by her given name. "But you and Mel are far too lucid and annoying for that to be a problem. What's wrong with them is most likely just exhaustion. The fey can drain energy from those around them. Makes it easier to persuade mortals to give up their caution."

Liv drops her eyes, anxiously picking at her nails. "Sorry," she mutters eventually.

With a sigh, Drake releases her and turns to the others. "Sorry about the fuss. I'll take Liv now so we can 'ave a little talk about playin' with faeries." His apprentice doesn't have the grace to look regretful. He glares at her before taking her by the elbow. "'Night."

* * *

The next morning, Kathryn wakes up huddled in a ball in the middle of her bed. Her head pounds violently so she squeezes her eyes shut, praying for the pain to stop. It doesn't. The inside of her mouth feels like it's been coated in carpet and tastes about the same. Whimpering, she curls into herself tighter.

Last night seems like a blur, but she can remember everything about it. The club, all the faeries. Then heading through the city in the middle of the night with Mel. Walking into Mel's apartment to see Drake, Quinn, and Mel's mother waiting for them. Drake taking her home and lecturing her before pushing her in the direction of her room, saying something how she's be sorry in the morning. _Definitely am, _she thinks, adding several unflattering descriptions of Drake as well.

Out of nowhere, she catches the smell of fried food. _French fries, maybe, _she guesses, right before her stomach revolts. Leaping up from her bed, Kathryn groans as her head nearly explodes with the motion. She wavers for a moment, trying to decide which is worse: her stomach or her head. The feeling of nausea returns as she inhales however, making up her mind for her.

Moments later, she's leaning over the toilet, vomiting up whatever was in her stomach. Coughing harshly, mouth even worse tasting than before, she leans against the wall, trying to make her head stop spinning. A not so subtle snicker makes her shut her eyes tight, almost wishing she was dead. "Go to hell, Stone."

"Payback's a bitch, innit?" Drake sounds far too pleased with the situation. "This is where I get to say, 'told you so'."

"No, you don't." Squinting at him, Kathryn mutters, "Never told me I couldn't go. And could you be quiet? My head hurts."

He pulls her to her feet, laughing again as she clings, sudden motion not being her friend. "Serves you righ' though. C'mon." Half dragging her, he leads her to the kitchen and pushes her down into a chair.

Kathryn glares at the takeout container of fries that are sitting in the dead center of the table. For a moment she wonders if it's coincidence but then realises that this is Drake's sense of humour. "I hate you. So, so much."

Sitting across from her, he grins as he takes a couple of the fries. "Y'know, we wouldn't 'ave this whole problem if you were a normal teenager, luv. Honestly, couldn' you go do drugs or 'ave sex wit' the skater boys in your class?"

Voice muffled, Kathryn doesn't move her head from the table. "I'll get right on that."

"Life goals." Placing a hand on her temple, Drake says a quick spell. The headache almost completely disappears instantaneously. After her heartfelt thanks, he holds out a fry to her. "Care for one?"

Even his quick reflexes aren't fast enough to avoid the blow she lands on his hand.

* * *

**A/N: I know it's been awhile. Sorry, the real world got in the way. Thanks to those that have reviewed so far and those who will. I really appreciate all of the author alerts and fave stuff but I'd really love a review, to let me know how I'm doing. Tell me what you like, don't like etc.**

**-Colour**


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